Page 25 of In Every Lifetime
I sighed deeply, knowing I was about to open a can of worms. “I’m so happy you have this family now, that you have a brother, but I can’t help but think about our little family we have back at home.”
“Sarah—” he tried to interrupt, but I kept on talking.
“I just feel like you’re forgetting about them in all of this. How they’ve been there this whole time, loving you the way a family should.”
“I don’t have them anymore,” he interrupted with more force this time. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his voice softening as he spoke again. “I don’t have you anymore. I don’t have Jackie. Goldie is still there, but it’s different. I can feel it. She’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t blame them. I don’t blame you, but you have that family we built. Hell, it’s grown since I was left behind. But I was… left behind.”
“You weren’t left behind,” I insisted.
“Well, I pushed them away. You can’t deny that. I pushed everyone away while I was drinking.”
“But you’re sober now,” I argued. “And we’re all still here. Have you even tried to reconcile with them? With Nate?”
“I apologized,” he reasoned, but even he wasn’t fervent in his words. He knew a simple apology wasn’t enough. “They don’t want me back anyway. I wouldn’t either, in their position.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know that, okay? Do you want it back? Those friendships?” He didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. “Then try. Just try. I have a feeling they’re more receptive than you realize.”
He scrubbed his hands down his face, leaning forward in the chair. Lamplight spilled over him, catching the golden warmth of his skin and setting it aglow. “I think we’re both too tired for a conversation this heavy.” He looked back at me, resting his elbows on his knees. “How do you want to handle this whole sharing a bed situation?”
I let him change the subject. He had dealt with enough for one day. “It’ll be fine. We shared a bed before with no issue.”
I wasn’t sure if I was telling him that, or myself.
“We were also married when we shared a bed… and we often weren’t sleeping—” he started.
“I have a boyfriend.” I blurted.
No, I didn’t.
Why the hell did I say that?
He looked at me, shocked, his brows raised and mouth slightly ajar. “You have a—I’m sorry, what?”
I couldn’t backtrack now. I guess I was lying. It would force a necessary divide between us while we shared a bed, ensuring nothing became intimate. Fai despised cheating, so him believing I had a boyfriend would mean it wouldn’t even be on his mind. This lie was good. A good little white lie to ensure we remained friendly, and nothing more.
“It’s new,” I began, “but it wouldn’t feel right sharing a bed with you without you knowing the truth.”
“We shouldn’t even be sharing a bed if you’re seeing someone,” he argued. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? How is he even okay with you being here?”
“He doesn’t own me, Fai. I can do what I want, and nothing will happen between us. We’re just sleeping. Why would he care if nothing happens?”
Fai looked at me incredulously. “Why would he care that you’re sharing a bed with your ex-husband?”
I could feel the lie spiraling, but I was too deep to backtrack now. God, I needed sleep. I made stupid decisions when I was sleep deprived. “Fai, do you trust me?”
“Always,” he answered.
The immediacy of it stopped me. No hesitation, no qualification. Just that single word, settled and certain.Always.He had trusted me when we first met, when we were married, and when I filed for divorce. Even then, through all of it, he had trusted me.
If he trusted me so resolutely, why didn’t he love me anymore?
I pushed the thought away before it could take hold.
He didn't love me, and I had made my peace with that, even if it had taken a long time to get there. I hadn't believed it at first, not fully, not even when he had all but said it to my face. But it was true, and it was his right, and it was precisely why I needed this lie to hold. This invented buffer between us. It would protect the heart that still quietly ached for him.
"Then trust me when I say it's fine."
He struggled with it, but I watched the moment he let it go, his shoulders dropping slightly.
